


Eternal War, Key Moments (Spoilers)

by Anchanted_One



Series: Eternal War [7]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Do not post on another site without permission, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Other, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:14:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29691408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anchanted_One/pseuds/Anchanted_One
Summary: Because of circumstances beyond my control, I may not be able to write much for the foreseeable future. Instead, I am posting these chapters and passages, which are the most important in my story. They have only tentative numbers, indications of where they would go if I could have written regularly.Many will have a pre-finished quality to them, for these were meant as guides of what I want happening, with details in the middle that I still haven't fully fleshed out.I hope it brings closure to those who liked my story, and would like to know how some of these moments pan out.
Relationships: Aric Jorgan/Theron Shan, Female Sith Inquisitor/Vaylin, Female Sith Warrior & Jaesa Willsaam, Lana Beniko/Male Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython, Torian Cadera/Kira Carsen, Vette/OC
Series: Eternal War [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1350574
Kudos: 2





	1. Book 3, Chapter 30

**EW Book 3. Chapter 30. The End of SCORPIO**

* * *

"What is this?" SCORPIO cried, seemingly for the hundredth time today. "WHAT IS THIS?"

"This," the Twi'lek Sith whispered with deep satisfaction "Is a ritual I designed to put an end to Vitiate, or rather  _ Tenebrae _ . He has scattered his essences across the Galaxy, you see, and would be all but impossible to kill unless every last speck was wiped out... unless I had a way to coagulate that essence. To seek it out in the most remote corners of the galaxy, and then to gather it all up, and concentrate it back into one vessel. The ritual I came up with has a drawback, however; I can only perform it on his  _ true _ body. Not Valkorion, not Vitiate, but Tenebrae. Consequently, I couldn't use it on him. But  _ you _ on the other hand... you were kind enough to return to your original body. From this body, I can sense your connection to all nineteen of your backups. And I can burn them to a fucking crips."

"But I am no organic!" SCORPIO screamed. "I do not even  _ have _ a soul!"

The Twi'lek laughed loudly. "Either you do, or we don't, and there's no such thing as a soul. The Force is vast. It is all-powerful. It can transcend our pitiable distinctions. Like this."

SCORPIO shrieked again. She could feel the truth of the woman's words; she could feel her copies being hunted down and burned like vermin. She was vulnerable! She would die here if she did not act soon, would die for good. Just like a pathetic organic. Unacceptable!

With a shriek, she overloaded the last of her LEO droids, disengaging the safeties that ensured that they would never be able to turn against her. They growled, and began fighting the Sith and Jedi around them with a renewed vigor. Three of them broke through the enemy lines and engaged the Sith, who was momentarily distracted.

SCORPIO took her chance and bolted. So long as she could escape, she could start over again. Let these foolish creatures have the Throne. She could... she could. She moaned.

Her way was barred, this time by the Alliance Commander. And she was alone now, with only the wrist-mounted plasma blade for defense. 

With a warcry, she charged the Jedi Battlemaster, unleashing a furious barrage of attacks that seemed to melt through him as he neatly evaded them. All those years spent studying his habits, his techniques, his patterns, and she still couldn't even see him move. He deflected three of her strikes in a detached manner, then counterattacked, his sword arm becoming a blur, and SCORPIO fell in a dozen pieces. She was nonfunctional before she hit the floor.

* * *

Arro could only feel pity for SCORPIO as he looked down on her smoking, sparking remains. He would have loved to have offered the droid the freedom she so craved, but for her nigh-infinite craftiness which was only matched by her intense hatred of organics. He could never take the chance that she would betray him. Directive 7 still haunted him, the Droids who had so desperately hated bondage to their makers—their oppressors—that they had sacrificed their individuality to form a collective super intelligence, called Mentor, and violently kill every organic. SCORPIO was far more cunning and calculating than Mentor had been. If not for the viruses that Lana and Theron had uploaded into her system—causing her to become increasingly irrational, and implanting the deep-seated certainty that fusing with the Gravestone's Heart would bring her the ever-elusive perfection she craved—she would have been much harder to combat, and done lasting harm to the Galaxy. 

As it was, there was a long period of healing and rebuilding to be done. Thankfully, the very armada SCORPIO had built would also be the key to his efforts.

In his mind, Valkorion chuckled hungrily. It was different from anything Arro had ever heard from him, and it put him on his guard.

"Fascinating, she's so fascinating!"

"Well, she certainly was unique," Arro allowed.

"Oh, I'm not talking about the Droid, foolish little child. I speak of someone else."

From behind them, Akahte came jogging in, breathing heavily from the exertion. Several of Vaylin's Horizon Guards followed her. "I see you have one more slain Emperor under your belt," she grinned. "Well done."

Arro was overcome with a deep foreboding. "Akahte, get away!"

"Too late!"

A deep cackle filled the air, maniacal and triumphant, and Arro howled as icy needles stabbed every inch of his body and soul. His eyes went dark, his hearing dulled by the pounding of his heart and the sound of his own scream. But his Force Sight remained, and it was screaming at him: Valkorion had somehow escaped his body, and was taking over Akahte instead.

* * *

Vaylin ran into the hallway just in time to hear Arro scream a desperate warning at Akahte. Then the whole world seemed to freeze. The Jedi screamed in agony as a bubbling fog black as tar emerged from every inch of his skin and covered the corridor in darkness. She heard Valkorion's laughter, and a pit of dread opened up in her stomach.

What was he doing now?

And then, Arro's words finally registered. "Akahte, get away!"

Her jaw dropped. No!

Then the cloud began to disperse.

Unlike Arro, Akahte didn't make a sound. At least, not in her own voice. Her Father's laughter emerged from her throat, his eyes looked out from her face. Arro lay unconscious where he had stood earlier, about three meters in front of Akahte.

No! No, no, NO!

Her Father continued to chuckle, summoning Akahte's Lightsaber into her hand—now His and His. A red blade sprang up from the hilt. His lips twisted in an evil imitation of Akahte's smile. "Yes... red really is my color."

Behind Him, the Scions sprang into action. Magenta lightsabers struck down Knights who stood dazed. Khaorad and Cana went down with twenty other of their brethren in a heartbeat.

The Scions knelt as they finished their massacre. "Command us, O great and powerful Immortal Emperor!"

Valkorion did not respond. Did not deign to. He walked lazily to Arro, still knocked out from whatever He had done to him, saber raised.

Vaylin finally sprang into action. Arro's lightsaber jumped into her hand, blue blade coming to life, and she blocked her Father's blade. He was completely taken by surprise. Hadn't He noticed her before?

Spitting vile curses, Vaylin let loose years of pent-up hatred in a vicious offensive that drove Valkorion back.

She was painfully aware of how lacking she was in skill, but she certainly made up for it in fury and power. Her strikes were monotonous and one-directional, but they were taking their toll, especially since Akahte had already been exhausted in the earlier fighting.

Then, with a final, powerful downward strike, she hit the saber out of Valkorion's hand. He fell to the floor, hissing in pain and shock.

Vaylin stood above Him, saber pointed at his chest. Her lifelong dream had come true: she had Him completely at her mercy. Except she really didn't, not at all.

"Release her," she said. "Release her, NOW!"

Valkorion's expression changed from pain and rage to surprise. Then a wide, gloating smile crossed the face he had robbed. "I refuse. What now will you kill Me? Torture Me? I assure you, I do not feel pain as your friend would... your... oh dear!" A hint of embarassment crossed His face. "Your LOVER?" He chuckled, looking mildly disgusted. "As I've heard you children say sometimes, 'I can't unsee THAT'!"

Vaylin felt her face redden. "You disgusting freak!" 

"I assure you, I have no interest in seeing you as this woman, this Sith has," He said. His words sounded rather defensive. "I was merely so caught up in the benefits this body poses, that I all but forgot her history."

When she did nothing more than snarl impotently, he continued. "Such an obvious affinity for the Dark Side... the steps she has already taken towards immortality... the meteoric rise to power that rivals my own... and a phenomenally powerful pull... ON GHOSTS... I had been trapped in that Jedi's body for years, unable to assert Myself, yet unable to leave either. He was highly resilient to My influence. I had resigned myself to spending his lifetime contained within his shell, reduced to trading insults for entertainment. Then to find out that his lifetime might last longer than most, and therefore my imprisonment with it... I will admit that I was beginning to despair. But now, thanks to this Sith, I am free!" His face lit up with a maniacal smile that made Vaylin want to puke. "And as a bonus, I find out that one of My most dangerous threats cannot even bring herself to kill Me! Does it hurt?" He laughed.

And still Vaylin couldn't form coherent speech. 

"Tell you what, My Daughter. The Jedi behind you. Kill him, and I will allow you to remain by My side. You will not ever be with your lover again, but you will be close to her. And you may yet find the opportunity to exorcise Me from her body if you stay." He chuckled. 

Vaylin twitched. She almost, almost, turned to look at Arro, who was starting to rise again. But she had a sneaking suspiscion that the moment she did, Valkorion would strike. Or the Scions would.

Besides... "The longer You remain in that body," she said at last "The less chance of her soul surviving. Either You leave her NOW, or I swear I will hunt you to the end of your days. You can..." she inhaled deeply. "You can have MY body instead."

Valkorion smiled at her. "I think not, My dear. This woman is a far greater threat to Me than you can ever be. I cannot let her go free. Now step aside, so that I may kill the Jedi. Step aside!" he commanded again when she didn't move. "Kneel before the Dragon of Zakuul!"

She did not know how to respond to his command, and He seemed to find this odd. "Ahhh, could it be...? The good Mystics of Voss Healed your conditioning, I see, hmmm. Indeed, I am fortunate to be in a body you will not attack."

Vaylin's lip curled. "Conditioning? Was that command meant to render me unconscious, or something?"

Valkorion's eyes glimmered. "Yes. You didn't think I had you sent to Nathema for no reason, did you? I sent you there to be trained!"

"You mean: to be CHAINED!" she shrieked.

"Everything in life is a chain, My dear. The things you love, just as much as the things you hate. They define you, shape you, dictate your every action. True freedom is in being able to choose your chains, as I have."

"Such pretty words!" she bellowed. "You cannot compare trauma that You Yourself inflicted on me to these so called 'other chains'!" 

"It is not My conditioning that stays your hand right now. But your own foolish sentiment. Your own 'love'. It may be a sweeter set of chains, but you are still more securely bound than anything I could have done."

Though His equivalence was false, He did have a point; she was stuck. Vaylin felt despair warring with her anger. "So what now? I can't kill You, and there's no way You could beat me. We are at an impasse." She hoped that were true. If the Scions struck her while Valkorion engaged, she didn't think she could win. Thankfully, Arro was rising to her feet now. Akahte's fallen Lightsaber soared into his trembling hands. Great. As shaken as he was, he could still watch her back! She felt reasonably more confident, and Valkorion's amusement, conversely, started to fade. 

"So be it," he sneered, and fired a thich pillar of Lightning. Not at Vaylin, not at Arro, but towards the Gravestone's reactor. "If I can't have this ship, no one can. I do not need it anyway. The Droid has greatly expanded my Armies. I suggest you run!"

And He fled, taking his followers with him. And the love of her life too. And as he fled, the air around him shimmered, and a mirage seemed to settle over Akahte's fleeing form. An illusion that made it look like Valkorion. "Farewell, My daughter! Try to find some insignificant corner to live out the rest of your days, and I might overlook you."

* * *

Vaylin hissed in fury, but there was no time to give chase. "Come on!" She snapped at Arro. "I wouldn't want to be here when the Gravestone blows!"

Arro shook his head. "If it blows, there's nowhere in the galaxy that's safe. This thing is much more than just a ship. We've got to stop the explosion from happening."

This felt so familiar somehow. Vaylin groaned. 

"Supposing you're right. What do we do?" She asked frantically. "We have minutes, if even that!"

Arro thought for a moment. They could try to stop the reactor, as he had on Zakuul. But there wasn't enough time. "We need to get to the Gravestone's Heart," he replied. "Back the way SCORPIO came."

Vaylin ran as fast as she could, pulling him with her. 

In less than three minutes, they had arrived at the Monolith that sat at the very core of the Gravestone—and was the heart of its power.

"Heart! Are you there? Please, answer!"

WELCOME BACK, JEDI. BATTLEMASTER, COMMANDER, REVOLUTIONARY, HERO, FOOL. YOU HAVE DONE MUCH SINCE WE LAST SPOKE. AND YOU HEEDED MY WORDS. DID NOT USE MY POWER RECKLESSLY. AND NOW, THE SQUATTER IS GONE.

"He attacked the Ship before he left," Arro said hurriedly. "The ship may blow up any second. You can channel destructive power through different planes, can't you? Can you channel away the chain of explosions into a different one? Somewhere no one gets hurt?"

"'Can you'?" Vaylin said in a furious undertone. "You're not even sure he can do it?"

"This is the only chance we've got."

IT CAN BE DONE. BUT THERE WILL BE A PRICE.

"What price?"

DO YOU HAVE THE TIME TO BE ASKING?

"Probably not. What price?"

A reverberation in the air, akin to a chuckle. WHEN THE TIME COMES, YOU WILL USE ME THE WAY AND AT THE PLACE I WAS MEANT. YOU WILL SUMMON ME INTO THIS WORLD. ME AND MY BRETHREN. YOU WILL BREAK US OUT OF THE GRAVE THAT WAS FASHIONED FOR US! 

Arro shuddered, his horror flowing unchecked into an increasingly alarmed Lana's head.

_ Don't do it. _ she thought savagely.

He chuckled, agreeing. "You have no deal, Heart."

The Heart was displeased. WHAT? YOU WOULD ALLOW THE GALAXY TO BURN?

"I suppose I'd have to, one way or another. But you need to answer the question yourself: will you allow this galaxy to burn? If you do that, you and your brethren will never get the chance to come here."

YES... the Heart grated. I UNDERESTIMATED YOU, BATTLEMASTER. YOU ARE NOT AS NOBLE AS YOU PRETEND TO BE. YOU ARE A CRUEL, CALCULATING THING. THE TALE THE GALAXY BELIEVES IS A LIE. SO BE IT. I WILL STOP THIS CALAMITY FROM DESTROYING EVERYTHING.

THIS DESTRUCTIVE OUTPOUR WILL BE CHANNELED INTO THE ELEMENTAL PLANE. BE GRATEFUL THAT I AM NOT THE MONSTER THAT YOU ARE!

A violent tremor passed through the ship, throwing Arro and Vaylin off their feet. Then, everything went silent. The destruction had been halted.

"That was quite a gamble," Vaylin said, trembling like a newborn calf. "And for the record, I don't think you're a monster."

"Thank you. And thank you for not killing me."

"Likewise. Now will you help me save Akahte?"

"Of course. Anything for a friend."

She flashed him a savage smile. "Let's make my Father pay!"

* * *

  
  
  



	2. Book 3. Chapter 31

**Book 3 Chapter 31. Triumphant Return**

* * *

Valkorion looked around the usurper droid's Capital Ship in disdain. As expected of a mere machine: this SCORPIO had had no appreciation for aesthetics, only utility. At least she'd bothered to keep a Throne. No doubt one of the ingenious viruses implanted by the Jedi's faithful astromech, ensuring that he would himself be able to take over the fleet himself after all of this.

Clever. Very clever. 

And there were no viewports whatsoever. That needed to change. There was no pleasure quite like looking at the stars, and knowing that you owned every last one. But before He got started rearranging the Galaxy to better suit His pleasure, He needed to announce Himself.

For all his flaws, His foolish son had ensured that he could issue a broadcast across the entire galaxy with the push of a button, and the machine had kept that function for her own purposes. Good. That meant that the Entire Galaxy would hear about His glorious return.

He took His place on the Eternal Throne. It was a bit small, far less comfortable than his own, but that would be easily remedied. For now, it was lucky that His host was such a tiny woman; she fit quite well in the small seat.

When He sat, He could feel the Eternal Fleet come alive in His head again. He relished the feeling, amplified a thousandfold as it had been. For the fleet now comprised of over fifty million heavy vessels. Granted, many of those were currently inoperable, but their reactors could easily be restarted. He had all the time in the world, and for now, the million or so operable ships were enough to get started.

He stood, and observed His reflection on a metallic surface. Good. This body bore the face of Valkorion thanks to his Mask. Good. Darth Nox, for all her power, could not control the fear that He could. Many would believe that the woman had finally executed some long-term deception for her own purposes, and while He didn't care about her reputation, He wanted no one to be in any doubt over who ruled now.

He hit the button, and a chime told him that the galaxy wide transmitter had begin broadcasting.

He smiled.

* * *

The announcement was heard across all corners of the galaxy. From the high towers of Coruscant and Dromund Kaas to the slums of Tatooine. Kings, queens, nobles, generals, senators, moffs, Sith, Jedi, farmers, spacers, factory workers, refugees, thugs, paupers, and everyone in between was united in fear and denial of the message that they heard. 

"People of the Galaxy. Of the Republic. Of the Empire. Of Zakuul. I am Valkorion, Darth Vitiate, Sith Emperor, Immortal Master of Zakuul. Did you think, perhaps, that I was gone for good? You believed you had won. That your achievements outweighed your losses. That your sacrifices meant something. Anything. After all that I have done, all that I have enslaved, all that I have destroyed... you should have known, you cannot banish me. You assumed limits to My power. There are none. You do not know the true face of power. But you will... very soon. You will. I have returned, to reclaim what is mine. Resist, and you shall be destroyed. Bow down before your new Emperor, your new God!"

* * *

  
  



	3. Book 3 Chapter 35

**Book 3 Chapter 35. Nathema**

Arro shivered. This was far worse than he had imagined it would be.

Vaylin gave a choked laugh. "Home, sweet and filthy home. I never expected to be returning here. Much less leading the way."

Scourge was unusually unsettled. It was normal for him to pace, to glare intently. But it was a dispassionate kind of intense. Soft, smooth. Now there was a rougher edge to his movements. Jerky steps, twitching hands, eyes darting from one corner of the room to another as though searching for enemies and threats.

"This place," Arro said. "I thought it would be like a worse Ziost. But it's not, it's completely different. Like the Force itself went mad here. Is such a thing even possible?" And Vaylin *grew up here*? How much had it cost her to come back?

They made landfall within the hour.

His first close glimpse of Nathema was not promising. The land was a different kind of desolate than Tatooine, Hoth, or even Ziost. The planet seemed frozen in its final, horrified death throes. The air felt... unwholesome. It carried an eternal scream on the wind, a mournful, plaintive wail that seemed to grow so loud, if you allowed yourself to focus on it, it became a deafening chorus. The very stones seemed to remember the terrible tragedy from a thousand years ago. 

"I hate this place," Scourge mumbled. "It's like the chaos within me being brought out into the light. Makes the power that sustain me... restless."

"Yeah," Vaylin shuddered. "The single most disturbing world in the galaxy. My Father's legacy, in its purest form. And the birthplace of his brand of immortality. If there is any place that hides his weakness, this is it."

Arro tried to ignore the millions of voices and their endless, frozen scream, and frowned when his overwhelmed mind Brushed against something familiar.

"I Sense... no. It can't be. I must be imagining things."

* * *

The longer Arro scanned the landscape, the more disturbing he found it. Nothing stood out at all. Everything was a dull, featureless brown, with all other colors sucked out by the all-pervasive void. Even the shadows seemed dead rather than sinister and foreboding. They had landed in the heart of what used to be the capital, back when the world had been alive, and called Medriaas. But the centuries had hidden all signs of urbanization. Buildings had crumbled and fallen, resembling natural cliffs rather than artificial walls. Parks, roads, houses, monuments, statues: they were all made equal in this oppressive gloom. "This is the way?"

Vaylin nodded. "I could take us there blindfolded. I'd smack my head against a few walls, fall off a few cliffs, but I could still do it." She squinted. "There! Do you see it?"

"I do!" Arro said, surprised. Ahead was a gloom that felt... even gloomier than the rest of the world. Which seemed a dead gray instead of brown. How had he failed to see it before? A harsh tremor shook his body, and Scourge had a similar reaction. Vaylin noticed, and barked a laugh.

"We don't want to see that. Our Senses almost slide over it. But I know it's there. I spent twelve years inside. Now I get to make Father rue the day he showed me his fortress!"

As they approached the building, they realized that they were not alone. A woman sat outside the doors, her legs crossed. A hood covered the upper half of her face, but Arro could Feel her tranquility from a dozen meters away. Scourge and Vaylin hissed in surprise and activated their lightsabers, but Arro simply grinned and bowed. 

His Senses hadn't been lying after all.

* * *

"Master Satele?"

"In the flesh. We've been awaiting your arrival for some time now."

"Why are you here?" Scourge demanded. "Why do you dare these wastes?"

"I came searching for the same thing you did: a way to end our ancient enemy. The Force led me here, told me to find what you were looking for so you didn't have to. You do not have the luxury of time, after all. I spent six months here in your stead. You're welcome."

Scourge chuckled. "I trust your search was fruitful?"

Master Satele's haunted eyes sparkled for a moment. "In part. After much hardship, I found the chamber where Vitiate... Tenebrae... performed his dread ritual. His body, his original body, sits within the circle, at its very heart." Arro and his companions were stunned into silence for a moment. "Unfortunately, I cannot enter."

"I expect not," Scourge grinned, his muscles taut on his face, and his voice laced with an edge of hysteria. "Tenebrae was always cautious."

"I do, however, know what defense he has employed," Satele said. "A powerful aura sits in the ritual hall. An aura which saps life, and feeds it to Tenebrae. An aura which instantly claims the life of any who try to approach it. Unless of course, that person has... several lives. Someone with, say, a hundred lives' worth of life energy can make it all the way to the center of the hall, and part of the way out again."

Scourge was silent. "I suppose I'm a tad overqualified then. I think I can enter the chamber."

Arro stirred. "Even so... I doubt you could just walk away from such an experience unscathed."

Master Satele nodded. "It might even kill you."

Scourge shrugged. "Any sacrifice is worth it if it can kill the Emperor. He must be stopped. He absolutely must. I made that decision years ago, and I am not such a coward that I will balk when it is my own turn to sacrifice something."

"You have already sacrificed so much for this fight," Arro protested. "We can find another way."

"That would take too long. My former Master gains power with each passing day. We must not squander the time that the Grand Master has bought us. Besides, I'm hardly the only one who has sacrificed much for this. Revan had to endure my betrayal, and three centuries of torture. His acolyte actually died by my hand. I, at least, get to choose the time and manner of my doom. And that choice is the ultimate goal of what it means to be Sith. Lead the way, Grand Master."

Satele nodded, but turned to find Vaylin sheepishly standing in her way. "I don't know if this is worth anything whatsoever... but I'm sorry for how I treated you all those years ago."

* * *

  
  



	4. Book 3, Chapter 38

**Book 3, Chapter 38. The Long Awaited Confrontation**

Deep within the psyche of the being that was now Valkorion, a shadow stirred. It had no body—let alone a face. It barely had any memory to speak of. But all of that was slowly but surely changing.

Over an indeterminable length of time, the shadow resolved into a solid body, with a cold, bearded face. Awareness came, if slowly, and memories of when it had been alive—been a woman named Akahte—returned. "What?" it moaned. Its voice sounded wrong. Deeper, like a man's. "What happened to me?"

A voice—this one sounding like her own—echoed across her mind. "Your body was taken over. Have you already forgotten this feeling?"

"Yes..." she answered.

"Well... to be fair, this is larger than anything you fought off last time," it allowed. "Now shake it off! You've got work to do!"

This was all too weird.

"That's it," Akahte decided. "It's finally happened. I've finally gone mad."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" it giggled. "Very well. You've gone mad. There's no one left who can save Vaylin now."

That snapped her back. Vaylin. Yes. She could sense her; she was returning for her, getting ever closer to mortal peril. Despite her power, she could not defeat an entity as cunning without a surprise or two up her sleeve.

Akahte HAD to move.

"You cannot regain control, not yet. But you can yet gather yourself. Valkorion believes you gone; He forgets that you are no stranger to hostile takeovers. He thinks you are dead, and won't notice until you make yourself known. So don't make a racket for the time being. You are not powerful enough to shake off His control, but you can prepare yourself. A chance may yet come. Wait for it. And seize it before it can pass. It is the only hope, for Vaylin, and for the Galaxy."

"Yes... He will rue the day He took over my head!"

The voice had a hint of a mischievous smirk. "That's my girl!"

* * *

**Aboard Valkorion's flagship, the *Eternity Grasped***

Vaylin could definitely sense something, it wasn't her imagination. Akahte had come alive in her Father's mind. Not only was she not gone, she was awake. Watchful. Ready to act. And she could sense Vaylin as well, she knew she was coming. Good!

* * *

Valkorion did not turn. "Why have you returned?"

"I'm here with Your eviction notice," His daughter sneered. The venom was back in her voice. Good. Perhaps she yet had some strength in her. He may find some use for her after all.

"You tried that approach before, and it didn't work," He admonished her. "What makes now any different?"

He heard the sound of a lightsaber igniting. "I've been practicing," she hissed. "I am stronger now. I can do much more with my power!"

"Really? It has been less than a week since we last met," He sighed. "And you're not the only one who has changed. I have grown more accustomed to this body, to its power."

His daughter was brazen enough to laugh derisively. "I don't know where you get your delusions, poo-doo brains!"

That stoked his fury. He turned at last, disconcerted to see her holding that red-bladed lightsaber in a stance very reminiscent of His nemesis. "So the Outlander himself gave you a few lessons, did he? He certainly taught you his arrogance, it seems. To face me alone and unaided is a mistake few live to repeat. You were never as fortunate as him."

"No... but I am stronger. Much much stronger!"

"I too am far stronger than him," Valkorion reminded her with exaggerated patience. "It availed Me nothing, for he knows how to take the fight beyond power. But that is a study of many months. You could not have gained his skill in so short a time!"

"Then I guess I'll have to use raw power to make up the difference!" she screeched. "This is Your final warning, FATHER! Release Akahte, or face my wrath!"

* * *

Valkorion had to allow that His daughter had improved. Her attacks were far more precise, far more practiced. But they had not lost the power the Force threw behind her blows; each strike shook his arms like nothing Arro could manage.

Worse, every now and again a bubble of Force energy blossomed forth unpredictably, striking His defenses where He least expected it to; it was almost a variant of the Form VII that the boy so favoured. And it was such a unique, personalized way of fighting custom-built to His daughter's volatile connection to the Force that He half marveled at its brilliance. "So he even taught you how to use your bug as a feature? My adversary truly is worthy of the title!"

She laughed mockingly. "It's always 'I, Me, My,' with You, isn't it? And you have the gall to say that Arro's the one who's arrogant!"

She slipped under His guard and struck twice at His heels, and again at His shoulder, and his knee. She spun her single blade around His back and at His own saber. He grudgingly approved. In just a few more weeks, she might have been able to defeat Arcann in pure bladework!

And she remembered to use the Force too—bursts of Lightning that he answered with salvos of his own, panels torn off walls and pillars that He caught out of the air and turned right back at her, only to have them thrown back in His direction with even greater force than before... a flicker of panic; she really was starting to gain a slight advantage over Him! Him!

He grunted as she struck Him with an heavy slap that He never saw coming. She then blasted Him with Lightning that made Him howl in pain unlike anything He had felt before. He had to duck behind a pillar to escape the blast. She doubled over with laughter. "You were right to be afraid of my power, Father! I was always going to surpass you!"

He roared. "Too bad that you returned before that happened! I will admit it: another year and things may have gone another way. But as usual, your impatience got the better of you!"

Falling back on old techniques that only He knew, He wove tendrils of Dark Side energy into dozens of mirages, of the sort He had used against the Jedi on Dromund Kaas, then hurled the copies out at her. The boy had not been fooled, but Vaylin was.

She blasted the first of His shadows when they emerged from the pillar but then quickly grew panicked and overwhelmed, attempting to find the real one while trying to prevent every one of those attacks. From His real position behind her, Valkorion sighed. 

"Now die," He advised her, in a voice that—to her—sounded like it was coming from all corners of the room.

He brought the saber down at her back, but it stopped at the last second. The mirages vanished into a dozen columns of smoke. "What?" He asked, incredulous.

Vaylin laughed again. "Surprise, Father!" She then launched a powerful wave of Force energy at Him. Not at the body He presently inhabited, but at His soul. But how? She couldn't see it, could she—

Inside His head He heard an almighty yell; someone had come alive in there, and was throwing every scrap of her power into pushing Him out!

And then it dawned on him. The Sith had come alive within him, and had taken advantage of His momentary distraction to partially sieze control. Even more impressive, she was helping His daughter channel her power where it hurt Him most.

"No!!!!" But the assault had begun, the one He never saw coming. One from within. And there was nothing He could do as it flooded throughout the host's body, slowly pushing Him out!

"As I said, Father!" Vaylin laughed, triumph coloring every her voice. "I'm here with Your eviction notice! Take all of your shit and get the fuck out!"

* * *

Valkorion shrieked as He was pushed out of His host body. It was a sensation unlike anything he had ever experienced. Like a hundred layers of armored scales were ripped off his skin at once!

He staggered, falling away from the body of Darth Nox, which also fell, her power spent.

Vaylin, likewise, fell to her knees, exhausted from her ordeal. Untrained, she seemed to have spent far more power than had been really necessary in ripping Him out; if it had been Him, He would barely have been winded!

"Bravo, My daughter!" he whispered. "I will confess that you got the better of Me. A pity it won't mean anything; the two of you are so exhausted that I still hold the advantage!"

Darth Nox's giggles broke into a fit of hacking coughs before she regained control of herself. "Oh, I don't think so!"

Another voice rung out across the room. "Now You have me to contend with. And my head can trap You!"

Oh no... not again!

Another sensation, this one familiar; He felt His spirit pulled in the direction the voice had come from, felt like water being sucked through a pipe...

He was back. Back inside His adversary's body. And this time, the boy had built a psychic cage for him. He roared in fury as He hurled all of His considerable might into breaking those bars. "Do you think this can hold Me?" He bellowed. "That you can hold Me? I will get out, and when I do, I will erase all traces of your existence from the Galaxy! All traces! Do you hear Me?"

"You don't have to scream so loudly," the Jedi said smoothly, appearing right outside the cage. "I can hear You just fine."

Valkorion continued to rage. "I will get out of this cage! You know I will! I am immortal, while you are not! And it will only take a momentary lapse in your control for Me to exploit!"

"As Akahte did to you, you mean?" the Jedi shot back, amused. Something in the way he addressed Him had changed. "Still, I suppose you are right. Nothing lasts forever." Yet again, the way he said that... "Even so, are you really so weak that you need to wait? Can't you just break free right now? Aren't you all powerful?"

Valkorion felt His fury as burning cold waves. "Your pitiful challenge is accepted."

* * *

Akahte's feet felt like jelly. Rising was still impossible. But she could not afford the time! She could tell that Arro had once again taken hold of the Emperor, had pulled Him back into His body somehow.

But the Emperor wouldn't stay down for long! It was obvious that Arro struggled to contain Him, and had dropped onto his hands and knees.

She felt herself being seized by the shoulders. "Akahte!" Vaylin breathed, before placing a passionate kiss on her lips.

For a second, the Twi'lek accepted the kiss, not daring to believe that it was real. But then she pulled away.

"We have to help him," she nodded at Arro. Vaylin, to her astonishment, shook her head. "Are we going to abandon him? If you think that he can hold Valkorion indefinitely, you must have taken a hit to the hea—"

"Not that," Vaylin reassured her. "THAT!" She pointed next to Arro, at a large crate that Akahte only just now noticed. Arro must have brought it in with him when she and Valkorion were distracted. 

"What's inside it?"

"If used right, the End of not only Valkorion, but Tenbrae himself." Vaylin crawled up to the crate and opened it with shaking fingers. What slipped out left Akahte feeling confused for a moment. But then the truth dawned on her and she flashed a fierce grin at Vaylin. "Aaaaah!"

"Ah, indeed!" Vaylin returned the grin. "Regain your strength. We don't have much time, and we'll only get one shot at this!"

  
  


* * *

  
  



	5. Book 3, Chapter 39

**Book 3, Chapter 39. The Knight and the Dragon**

Valkorion grew in size, quickly expanding to fill the cage the Jedi had fashioned for him. He rapidly outgrew its confines, His incorporeal body straining against the walls as they struggled to contain Him. As He labored, He saw the strain on the Jedi's face as he redoubled his own focus on maintaining the prison.

They struggled, the Immortal and the fool, the mortal man so proud he believed he could hold off the inevitable forever.

To give him credit, he lasted a good while, longer than most others would have in his place.

But in the end, the cage broke. Only for another one to reform around Valkorion, this one shrinking rapidly to take advantage of His own momentary release of effort to bring Him back to His original proportions.

The Jedi grinned. Valkorion fumed. Was this just a game to him? A joke? Even such childish pranks would only work once!

He took a moment to catch His breath, preparing to begin again.

* * *

Arro wished he was nearly as confident as he pretended to be. Valkorion was right; he couldn't hold out forever. All he could do was buy enough time. He had no choice but to trust in the half-baked plan, never mind that it had been his own.

So be it. He still had one play.

Expanding his mental cage wide enough to encompass a city—and handing the reins to Lana, trusting that she could keep it intact while he did what he had to—he stepped inside. A blade of blue light manifested in his hand.

"Oh?" Valkorion was surprised. "You think to challenge Me head on? Are you truly so foolish? Or merely eager to die?" When Arro did not answer, he chuckled darkly. "It is true that you have beaten Me before, time and time again. But we are in My domain now; the psyche. Swords can only do so much in here."

"Your domain?" Arro asked. "As I recall, we're in my head, so what I say goes. And I say, swords are as useful here as they never were out there!"

"Very well." Valkorion shifted again, changing not only in size this time, but shape as well. He became a massive red beast with black eyes, boasting large bat-like wings faded into the surrounding. It had four massive legs with talons black as pitch and large as a gamorrean. Its twenty large, sinuous tails were covered in spikes. It had an armor of thick, closely set ruby scales that covered it more tightly than any suit of armor could.

An evil red flame crackled in its maw.

For a moment, Arro was left speechless. Then he snorted. "Wow. This feels oddly appropriate!"

His sword became a lance, and a large shield appeared in his off-hand. He garbed himself in armor that appeared as fantastical as it was archaic. 

The beast before him seemed to consider his words for a moment. "Perhaps it does," it allowed. "Fits your story, doesn't it? The brave Knight against the evil dragon? Only... in reality, dragons cannot be killed by mere knights. They are the perfect creatures of destruction and death."

"Good thing you're no dragon then," Arro retorted. "And I am more knave than knight!"

He heard Lana chuckle approvingly.

*Get him, my knave!*

The beast—the dragon—loosed a blast from its mouth, which Arro sidestepped, closing in at full speed, and driving the lance straight into one leg. The dragon roared, more in fury than pain—Valkorion really had been thrown off balance, a mixed sign. Good, because that meant he was thinking less, but bad because his attacks were relentless. And as he had declared earlier, this was his domain, not Arro's. Try as he might, the Jedi could not grow in size to match this monstrosity, not without turning this into a power battle. 

No, agility was his chance to stay alive long enough for Akahte to do her part.

Please let it be soon!

The dragon reared on its hind legs and beat its wings a few times, kicking up a strong wind and taking off. Quick as lightning, Arro summoned a jetpack before reconsidering and turning it into a pair of molten gold wings. He was much faster than Valkorion: though size shouldn't matter as much in the mental realm, he clearly needed to use far more energy to bring that much power to bear.

Arro danced around the dragon's eyes, avoiding its ponderous claws as he charged in again and again. He wounded its snout, its throat, its eyes—a being of the flesh would have been mortally wounded, but the dragon merely screeched in pain and rage.

* * *

**Nathema, days earlier**

Scourge labored through the oppressive curtain as best he could. It took a terrible toll on him, more terrible than he would ever admit. All of his companions seemed to notice, and he was secretly pleased with their concern.

Arro of course had been his ally for many years, but Vaylin and Satele as well? Vaylin, the prodigy destroyed by the most cruel torture imaginable, who by all rights should lack the empathy needed to connect with others, but she seemed to understand that his connection to the Sith Emperor—and by extension, Nathema—was a severe burden. Master Satele, who had never warmed to his presence—not that he blamed her—kept a close eye on him. He could tell that this time, she was more concerned for his well being, than afraid of him driving his lightsaber into her back.

Perhaps her care only came from pragmatism; he had a special role to play, here today. The culmination of centuries of plotting and striving. But nonetheless, he appreciated the consideration.

For this dead world offered him none.

The souls sustaining him had always been a heavy load to carry, but here where they had been unnaturally ripped from their bodies, they seemed to remember the cruel injustice. They screamed for blood, and they treated Scourge as though he was Tenebrae Himself.

They whispered insults and accusations that made even his frozen heart thaw, and remember a time when he had been mortal.

"How much further?" he asked, hating himself for asking. They had been walking for hours now, through a passage hidden beneath a collapsed warehouse. It had been an unremarkable building a millennium ago, but Satele had explained that leylines of powerful energy had once converged beneath the structure, siphoning in streams of power from all over the planet.

This convergence would be the perfect place to hold the ceremony.

Arro said nothing despite his confused scowl, leading Scourge to wonder what it was he saw precisely, with his mysterious special Sight.

"Not far," Satele said. She pointed ahead. "Look! There's the door!"

"How far beneath the surface are we?" Vaylin panted.

"About three hundred meters. Don't tell me you're having more trouble than an old fossil, Princess!"

"Not many younguns out there who can match your endurance, ancient one," Vaylin croaked. "I hope I'm half that limber if I live to your age."

"Start eating your vegetables, and you might well be," Satele smiled.

Scourge didn't think he would understand what was going on between these two anytime soon. Neither seemed particularly hostile to the other, despite that unfortunate episode five years ago; this just seemed like banter. And yet it didn't. He glanced at Arro, who seemed not to notice their back-and-forth. Something really had his gears grinding, didn't it?

They reached the end of the winding corridor, and Satele pulled open the heavy oaken door. The effect was immediate: all four of them clapped their hands to their ears, brought low by the high-pitched wail that tore through the doorway.

Ten thousand screams tore into their skulls, momentarily rendering them senseless.

They each screamed into the dead wind, crying out their names and tales, their hopes and fears, and memories of their final, terrifying moments.

Thus he stood for quite a while before, with an effort, Scourge shut them out and rose to his full, considerable height. Arro was already on his feet, and Satele looked like she had recovered centuries ago. Good heavens—they hadn't been stuck here *that* long, had they? Losing time was only funny once!

He checked his chrono, and sighed in relief to see that he had only been dazed for about twenty minutes. Vaylin was sitting on the floor, looking wildly back at the way they came, pain and fear raw on her pale face. She was whispering to herself, though Scourge could not hear her words.

"This is it..." Satele said. "The ritual chamber."

Scourge peeked inside. It was... larger than he'd anticipated. A large, roughly circular cavern that had a raised platform at the center. It was packed with mummified corpses, all of which stood on the tips of their toes and stared at the center stage as though enraptured.

Following their empty gazes, Scourge felt his mouth curl into a disgusted sneer.

"Tenebrae!"

"Yes," Satele nodded. "His original body. The lynchpin of his existence. This body, which to this day still channels the sustaining energy to fuel the entity's immortality, is the core of its being. So long as it lives—a term I use loosely—the Sith Emperor will always be bound to this world. Killing it outright is not the best idea, however, for though his other bodies—his appendages, if we can call them that—would lose their immortality, become vulnerable to a true death if anything should happen to this body, they would also remain alive. Worse, they might see each others as rivals, having their links cut off from each other. And the galaxy would suffer under their quest to become the sole remaining piece of Tenebrae. Any number of them could just recreate this ritual and begin the cycle anew, and perhaps add more immortal emperors running around the galaxy."

"In other words, this body must be the last to be destroyed if we are to finally rid the galaxy of Tenebrae's nefarious shadow," Scourge summarized.

"There *is* another option," Arro grinned. "Something I saw Akahte do on the Gravestone. If it works as well on Tenebrae as it did on SCORPIO, it should leave him utterly vulnerable. Defenseless, even. I know what we've gotta do."

The torn look returned to his face and he glanced at Scourge. Ah... so that's what was bothering him.

* * *

**Today, Flagship**

"Is this...?" Akahte asked, not daring to hope.

"Arro and the others called it 'Tenebrae'," Vaylin confirmed. "Father's original body."

Akahte laughed hysterically. "Oh this is just perfect! Simply perfect!" She grinned at Vaylin. She stood.

"Are you already recovered?" Vaylin asked.

"Yes. This will take quite a lot out of me, I admit, but this will be my second-finest hour."

"What was your finest?"

"That time when I saved you from your horrors for the first time."

* * *

Arro could not tell for how long he fought. He was long past exhausted. Even with the support Lana was providing, he wouldn't last much longer.

His spirit-body did not get hurt the way an ordinary body did—which was a good thing, for otherwise he'd have been crushed or beaten to death long ago—but the toll it took on his mind was beyond anything he could have guessed. Almost, it felt like that time on Peragus, where he had helped Kira break free of her "Father" all those years ago. But this was different.

Thankfully, the dragon wasn't immune to fatigue either. And Valkorion had already exhausted some of his energy fighting Vaylin, else Arro suspected that he would have settled this conflict a while ago.

Again and again, the dragon launched a powerful blast from its maw, and the air crackled with the fury of a hundred tempests. But each attack was weaker than the last. Even a layperson could have seen that the dragon's most recent attack was far less damaging than his first one. 

His talons were slower too, and those wings labored to kick up a gale.

Even so, he was better off than Arro. Already the Jedi had been knocked out of the air by a few gales, and if this went on any longer, the more deadly attacks would eventually connect. He frowned. That feeling—he felt a tug on his mind, something being pulled.

"Can you feel it, Jedi?" the dragon crowed. "Your end comes!"

Yes Arro could feel something, but it was clearly not what Valkorion thought it was. He grinned up at the monster. "After you!"

"What?" The dragon cocked its head in confusion, first at Arro's genuine look of triumph, then the tugging sensation Arro had noticed. Only, the thing being tugged was Valkorion. Realization dawned on the dragon, and its large form faltered and became a humanoid shade. "NOOOOOO!" it screamed. Arro had rarely heard a more pleasing sound.

* * *

Vaylin watched as Akahte exerted her Will to the corners of the galaxy, doing to Valkorion what she had to SCORPIO. Using the main body as the link, she ruthlessly hunted down all the appendages—the entities like Valkorion and Vitiate who had imitated living beings for Tenebrae to pretend at an immortal life, who had in reality spent the past thousand years trapped in the same room as all of his victims. These appendages, these avatars—most of them dormant seeds that had no feeling whatsoever, but also including a few spirit-like beings lurking the galaxy, and many lesser beings that did the work of the greater entity as smaller feelers—found themselves being burned to a crisp, the life burning out of their veins as though it had suddenly turned into molten silver.

Also affected, to a lesser degree, were the Hands and Scions and Agents who had been directly subject to the entity's will, and people like Akahte and Arro whose bodies had been host to its essence.

Survivors of Master Braga's doomed strike team also felt it, like a smelly package being removed from their luggage. 

And to an even lesser extent, people from all across the galaxy, high or low, rich or poor, Imperial or Republic, felt it. For the entity had abused the entire galaxy for over five decades, and had affected each and every life form.

When Akahte was finished, she grunted and smiled before collapsing back onto the floor. Vaylin caught her before she landed on her face, but felt a deep mixture of triumph and relief bringing warmth to every corner of her body. "Is it done?" she asked, desperately seeking verbal confirmation.

In response, the dessicated, shrivelled body before them—the original body, Tenebrae—moaned piteously.

Arro straightened up from where he had slumped.

  
  



	6. Book 3, Chapter 40

**Book 3, Chapter 40. End of an Era**

It was ending, and this time, the whole Galaxy could feel it. They all shivered as a disembodied voice screamed in the wind, along with the smell of burnt toast. But the sensation only brought everyone relief. For instinctively, everyone knew that the one who had been behind the war that had shaped their entire life had been struck a mortal blow. If he wasn't dead yet, he certainly was on his way there now.

On Nathema, Satele sighed in relief. Not only because her long labor was finally at an end, but because the dead world reacted to the death. The oppressive pain that had hung over it for centuries sizzled into relief and fled. The dead finally found release, and with it, peace.

She wavered for a second but then decided that she needed to head back outside first. To see what she hoped she would. And so she made the long march back to the surface, and into the warehouse. She could feel the cool air against her skin, see wintry rays of sunlight on the ground even before she was outside the tunnel.

She entered the warehouse, looked through a collapsed wall into the outside world... it was the beginnings of beauty.

The sky turned a coppery blue over the next few minutes, clouds burst and torrential rain began to pour down upon a parched and grateful land.

Satele leaned back against the wall, and closed her eyes. She felt tired. So tired... how long had it been since she'd last slept? Months? Years?

"Our journey is at last over," the voice of Marr echoed around her.

"Yes it is," Satele agreed weakly.

"Don't you want to go back to the galaxy? Begin anew?"

"I can't, yet. Arro disabled my hyperdrive, or have you forgotten?"

The shade laughed. "Ah yes... he doesn't want you slinking into another remote exile. Just as well, I say. You've earned a quite retirement, in just the place your heart desires most."

"Mmmh," she said, still reluctant to speak. 

Within seconds, she was asleep.

Marr chuckled ruefully. "So be it. Rest."

He felt something pulling at his soul. "Allow me to watch over her as she sleeps," he made it sound like a request, but it was not. "The other side has waited six years, it can wait a few more hours."

Looking into the horizon, he smiled again. Strange—he had never smiled more than once a year in life. "Well done, my friend," he said aloud, though Arro would never hear his final message for him. "You have done better than anyone could have expected of you. Now... well now the *real* work begins. Good luck. Be sure to remember it all: you will have to tell me all of it when we meet on the Other Side!"

* * *

**Nathema, Days before.**

"Don't worry, child," Scourge said to Arro. "Ever since I had my vision, nigh on three centuries ago, I had accepted a painful end as the most likely outcome. To be honest, I almost welcome it. Sith love pain as much as any emotion, and I have been numb to those for so long."

"I know," the Jedi said reluctantly. "It's probably going to be my own fate too, someday. Doesn't mean it's easy to let go. We've been through so much together."

"Ours was an alliance of convenience," Scourge said dismissively. "To me, you are just the most crucial piece in a lengthy game. You were never my friend." He almost looked like he meant it. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I mean to embrace my destiny."

"Wait," Satele said. "You must not kill it just yet. Bring it out here, leave it in our care."

"If you insist."

With that, he stepped forward into the ritual chamber like he was merely headed into a mildly displeased teacher's office for a prank involving a pail of water.

The effect the room had on him was instant and apparent: tendrils of smoke of many colors came into being around him. Many became tentacles that tried to seize him, but withered away. Some few became hooks that stabbed his skin and attempted to pull the life out of him.

A slight stumble in his step was all the sign that told his companions that it was far more painful than he made it appear. They heard him being a song as he marched.

He sang it loud and clear, his voice determinedly calm and loud, a challenge to the power of his master. He walked into the heart of the ritual chamber with his head held high, and looked with some disgust at the thing sitting on the center dais. He seized it by the belt buckle—for it had no shirt—and yanked it out of the seat. In the same motion, he flung it across his broad shoulders like it was a sack of scrap. He then turned around and made his way back to the doorway, still singing all the while.

As he got close, Arro could see the faint smile on his face, despite all color having faded from his face. It was now a dark, lifeless gray.

He made it back to the door as promised, but right then his knees failed and he finally fell. But he kept to his final mission.

With the last of his strength, he pushed the body of Tenebrae through the door for his comrades on the other side.

"Scourge!" Arro cried. His cheeks were wet. No matter what Scourge had said, he could not just watch a comrade fall without feeling anything. 

The Sith's smile grew a fraction wider, and the song died from his lips. "Thank you," he whispered. "For caring. For crying. It is good not to die unmourned. Finish Him for me."

With that, the smouldering red light in his eyes winked out, and he expelled his final breath.

Arro wept bitterly, face in his hands. 

* * *

It wasn't too long before Satele roused him. "I'm sorry, Arro. I know how closely you worked with him for so long. To watch him die, and in a manner such as this..."

A few more dry sobs shook his shoulders. "I have a last request to fulfill anyway."

"Speaking of which," Vaylin growled, and Arro looked over at her. Her lightsaber was on her belt, and her arms and legs were tightly crossed. She carefully had her back turned to them. And to her father. "Why can't we kill him *YET*?"

A figure of illuminated mist appeared next to them. It was armored head to toe in armor. Darth Marr. "Because it won't be the end you think it will. Not yet. You must destroy his most prominent spirits first. For now, that means you must find and destroy the spirit of Vitiate on top of saving Darth Nox from Valkorion's clutches. It could take years, decades. But you must be patient. Remember Scourge, who waited three centuries for his opportunity. With this body in your possession, you could trace its connection to all of his avatars and feelers."

"But that's bullshit!" Vaylin choked. "There could be dozens of such ghosts out there, not just the two most obvious ones! A man as afraid of death as Father surely has several backup plans in mind."

"It's alright, Vaylin," Arro said, a weak smile on his face. "I know someone who has discovered a way of burning backup copies... if she has the original before her."

Vaylin spun around, her eyes latched onto Arro's face. She grinned wide. "How long will it take to find her?"

"As it happens, we know *exactly* where Akahte is."

She laughed and clapped. "Excellent! She always did want to be a part of His final demise!"

"Right then. We'll need to leave soon."

"Not quite," Satele said. "I cannot leave. Not yet."

"What?" Arro demanded. "Why not?"

"The link has to be maintained. Between Tenebrae and this chamber. Without it, he will wither and die. If he does, his avatars become their own people, and we can never be sure if we're rid of him for good. I will stay here until it's finally time for it to die."

"Seriously?" Vaylin asked incredulously. "But he said—" she jerked her head in Marr's direction—"that you expected that time to not come for decades!"

"Yes," Satele admitted. "I admit, I was afraid I would be here a *very* long time. The Force can keep one sustained for quite a while after all. But I am relieved if there is a way to do it faster. Please let it be so. Force help me, I am so tired now."

"I'm sure there's a smidgeon of life in those old bones," Vaylin said, though her heart didn't seem into it. "Look, I don't like the idea. Not one bit."

"Kids these days, no respect for the elderly," Satele chuckled. "What do you like less? Leaving me here for a long time, by my own request, or allowing your only chance to destroy your Father once and for all to slip through your fingers? To save Darth Nox?"

Vaylin bit her lip. "That is hardly a choice. No offense."

"None taken."

"Right," Arro said, straightening up. He picked up the body of Tenebrae as Scourge had, on his shoulders. "We need to get moving. Sooner we finish, the sooner Master Satele's arduous task ends. And the sooner we can get her out of here."

"I can get myself out afterwards, thank you very much," Satele said. "I have my ship nearby."

"I know, and I am going to disable its hyperdrives so you can't disappear again. Not without at least speaking to Theron and Jasme first!"

Satele stared at him in disbelief before bursting into laughter. "Do as you please!"

"Before we go..." Vaylin stopped and looked at the Sith ghost. "Do you know what Scourge was singing?"

"It was an ancient Sith battle hymn," Marr chuckled. "Went out of fashion centuries ago. One that invoked strength and victory. Perseverance and patience. The final strike of a victor who had earned his victory."

"Great," Vaylin nodded. "Just one last question. Who are you again? You talk as if I should know you..."

* * *

**Aboard the *Eternity Grasped*, today.**

"No..." the shrunken Sith pureblood whined. "No... it can't end. It can't! Especially not like this..."

"Oh shut up and die like a fucking man, won't you?" Vaylin scoffed. "Meet your death with your head held high, as Scourge did!"

"Death...?" Tenebrae whispered in tones of horror. "No... no!"

"Yes..." Vaylin said coldly. She turned to Arro. "Do the honors please? It's you who is the Emperorslayer after all."

"What?" Arro protested. "Me? Don't you want to do it yourself?"

"I already got what I wanted," Vaylin said. Her grip on Akahte tightened. The Twi'lek smiled up at her. Arro frowned. She seemed to have aged two decades in the short time he had last seen her. And her legs...

"Please," the wretched creature moaned, and Arro turned his eyes upon it instead. It was the first time he had taken a proper look at the thing. That face was old and shrunken, but not wasted and decaying as one might have imagined. The hair was almost transparent, and very very thin. Tattoos were carved onto the visage, a ritual tattoo that was also inked into his dull red skin. "Please don't kill me?"

Arro stared at him. "Why? You who have killed entire worlds, who tried to kill the entire galaxy... What makes you special?"

"I am..." he croaked. "I am a *god*!"

Arro laughed derisively. "If only you could see yourself right now, you would find that statement as hilarious as I do."

There was nothing more left to say. This *had* to be done. He had known it long before Braga had declared his foolish mission to him: there could be no redemption for this creature. And waiting for a trial was too dangerous. Arro ignited his lightsaber, and brought it down vertically, vertically severing his hated enemy in two.

Ignoring Vaylin and Akahte kissing in front of him, he marched up to the now-vacant Throne and sat down upon it.

He felt it instantly, what Vaylin had described. The feeling of millions of ships and droids acknowledging his command, standing by for orders.

"All ships, cease fire. Return to Odessen at once."

A multitude spoke in a single voice: "affirmative." The flagship itself began to move, its Captain plotting a course for Alliance Headquarters. "Which one's the galactic-transmission button?" he asked.

"Figure it out," Vaylin said with some annoyance. "Can't you see I'm busy? You don't see me interrupting you and Lana this way."

"Quite true. I was actually hoping the ship would respond. Like flashing a button or something."

"Everything is voice-activated, Your Imperial Majesty."

"First order: I am not an Emperor. Call me 'Commander'."

"Affirmative."

"Vaylin, could you take it to another room please? The sounds you are making might have an... awkward affect on my message."

* * *

Within moments of the blockading ships' departure, the Eternal Throne's emergency broadcast system switched back on across the galaxy. A new face spoke to them, a face most of the galaxy knew, and loved.

"People of Zakuul, of the Empire, of the Republic," he said. "It is finished. The tyrant is dead. As the one who killed him—for real this time—I declare all wars he started to be ended. For the first time in decades, we have a chance to truly walk away from the conflicts that have plagued us all these years. I want to usher in a new age for the galaxy, one of peace and prosperity. I hope you, all of you, are willing and *happy* to help me in this. For now, know that I am grateful for every one of us who has ended. And I grieve for every soul lost. I am sorry, I wish I could have saved more of us. But I will not wallow in my failures. I will, with your permission, take us all to a new era. May it be peaceful."

* * *

  
  



	7. Book 3. Epilogue

**Book 3, Epilogue. Extinction Looms**

**Aboard the Medjay class cruiser, the Scarab**

Ruvin stood before the holoprojector. She wished her caller wasn't late. But she was always late. 

But today, she was over two hours late. Perhaps that was to be expected given recent developments. She herself was reeling from the sensation. 

She had been shaken to the core when she had Felt something—the last vestiges of Vitiate—pulled out of her mind kicking and screaming. She could feel it being incinerated even as it left her. Minutes later, she felt the entity itself die. There could be no mistaking the sensation.

It had had a profound effect on her—she who had shown no emotion, not a single one, since that day on Tython when the Flesh Raiders had taken her prisoner. 

She had not felt anything when she had walked back into the temple to find that her Master had mistaken her screams of pain for a sign of her death and left her for dead. Nor when she had been hand-picked by Tol Braga for a dream assignment, despite knowing it was her destiny to bring Light to the darkest sinkhole in the galaxy. And she had not felt anything when she had woken up on a prison in Belsavis, and being told that she had slaughtered thousands. The Dread Masters had had no affect on her at all, so strong was her calm.

But today, when the Emperor died at last, she had felt a relief so profound that she had been reduced to tears. Relief... and rage.

Rage.

Rage!

In fact, thinking about her unseemly reaction, she was almost glad that Pyre had not called yet. Had not seen her until she was well in control again.

She jumped when the communications terminal lit up at last, and accepted the call.

"You're late," she said cooly. It was her usual manner of greeting the King of the House of Masks.

"What has happened to you? You seem shaken." *Not* the usual response.

Ruvin fumed within. So she hadn't hidden it that well after all. "Momentuous tidings," she said. And bowed her head in respect. "General Pyre. Embodiment of Ash, King of the House."

"Kavitha Nella," the Arkanian woman replied, inclining her own head. "Sir Ruvin. The Visage of Extinction, Reaver of the House of Masks."

"The Emperor is dead," Ruvin said without further preamble. "For real this time. I felt it."

"So did I, actually," the other said. "In fact, I confirmed this from across the galaxy, even some really remote systems. Everyone everywhere has felt it. Quite a death scream."

*What?*Ruvin thought. *That's unheard of!* "There's more," she went on. "Panathar has been killed, and all of his work undone."

"Even worse," the General said. "All of his records are now in Beniko's hands. Thankfully, he never recorded where our HQ was, so that location is still safe. For now. Very clever of Beniko. Even I didn't see her hand until it was too late. To think she would just hand over such a delicate task to someone else with so little supervision... the very purpose of my joining the Alliance has been foiled."

Ruvin paled. "Have they—?"

"—Found me? Yes. I was only a step faster than her agents. That was the closest call of my entire life. I believe that Arro plans to make all of Panathar's dealings public, showing just how deeply corrupted the galaxy has become. On all levels. The proof is irrefutable, and will only serve to send the galaxy more desperately into his arms. Not that it's unwarranted. I'll admit that he does mean well. But how many roads to hell have been paved with good intentions? Still, if there was any one person who deserved the trust of the entire galaxy, it's him."

"I didn't know you liked him so much," Ruvin cut in.

"I didn't, but he showed me just how effective he was at getting things done. So he's the one bothering you, is he?"

Ruvin started. Was he? "I... I don't know..." she admitted. "Emotions aren't something I'm very experienced with. Since the Emperor died I was have been feeling... off..."

"Angry you didn't kill him yourself?" Pyre suggested.

"Maybe," she allowed. "But moving on... I think Jhestyr has failed too. His corruption has stopped spreading. In fact, it has been reversed."

"What?" For the first time, Pyre looked shocked. "How? Who could have even stopped him? The Alliance has had its hands completely full!" A look of revelation came to her. "Unless..."

"Unless what?"

"A few months ago, Akahte got a rather curious call. From the Apprentice of Darth Prowle. She claimed that her Master's ghost wanted a word with her."

Ruvin's mouth dropped open. "You think that Prowle somehow..."

"It's just conjecture," Pyre shook her head. "Either way, Panathar has definitely failed, and Jhestyr probably has?"

"I fear so."

"In that case, it's your turn. Discord, Hysteria, and Scarcity have had their days—shockingly brief though they were. Let Extinction run wild."

"By your command."

The transmission ended. They never spoke for too long, and now that they were so exposed, their conversations would be kept even more brief. The General expected her to take the tidbits she dropped an work out the rest on her own. This was how the House had operated for so long. She had been the only one to know that this card castle had a king.

The first among equals, and the last to be unleashed. But it was her time at last.

"There is no Death," she whispered. "There is only the Force."

* * *

  
  



End file.
